Broken
by cobralily
Summary: We know from inaccurate histories that Gryffindor was a perfect hero, Hufflepuff a plump motherly woman, Ravenclaw a reclusive bookworm and Slytherin an arrogant, evil bigot. Were they though? And what exactly made Slytherin leave his friends and family and his life's work? This is what happened at Hogwarts two millennia ago... a tale of love and hate... of a broken quartet.
1. Salazar Slytherin

_**SALAZAR SLYTHERIN**_

He starts back, horrified, his arms releasing her now bloody, limp body from their embrace. Her golden eyes are wide open, staring at him. They show shock and fear and pain. She falls on the ground. The arrow has pierced her heart, a fatal wound. Blood gushes from her body, seeps into the soil, sprays the pure white rosebushes and her white gown red. He sees nothing, nothing but her prone form. She twitches her limbs and thrashes her body. Grunts and moans and mutters. He is frozen in place.

She gives him a look of pain. It penetrates through his numbness and sears him with its intensity.

"You are my brother, Sal." Godric's voice rings in his mind.

"I trust you. I know you won't ever fail me." Sara says, blithe and carefree. He failed her. He failed Godric and Rowena. He failed his students, and his school.

Guilt floods him, and his body galvanizes into action. He crouches down low, drawing her head into his lap and stroking her vibrant red hair. "Sara." He sobs, pouring forth his pain, his guilt and his love into his voice to will her back to life. "Sal." She groans. Her hand squeezes his feebly. A final ragged breath leaves her body. Her eyes hold his.

He collapses, unable to believe…

That. She. Died.

A sudden movement makes him stand up and turn back. He sees Rowena standing in the balcony, pale and trembling, not out of fear, but rage. Her small pale form is rigid but quivering, and her sweet, serious face is ugly with jealous anger, sheer venom filling her. There's a crossbow in her hand and a quiver of arrows is slung over her back.

Betrayal, she screams silently. I loved you.

He is shrunken. He is powerless and wounded under her accusation, as images of the last few years flashed in front of his eyes.

You killed her, he screams back though.

You are mine, Salazar. She is fierce: You are mine. And she stole you from me. I just wanted you- she carries on pathetically.

I just wanted you to love me back. Like I love you. Tears run down her face. He turns his back on her, and kneels down by Sara. Her face is beautifully serene and calm. He kisses her still warm forehead.

Farewell, my love. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

"Salazar!"

He looks up and sees Helga. She takes in Sara's corpse, his bloodied clothes, and sees Rowena frozen weeping in the balcony. She kneels down on Sara's other side and checks her pulse, her heartbeat. She looks at him over her body. Well, she seems to ask. What now?

He stands up. He flees.

Footfalls hound him. Voices call his name.

He doesn't stop. He runs.


	2. Rowena Ravenclaw

She takes aim carefully. The arrow soars through the air and hits its target. Correct aim. He drops the startled girl. The red circle widens on her white gown, spewing blood. She tries to sit up but falls back. Her face is twisted in pain. She feels triumph vengeance. That's what you get, you slut. How dare you throw yourself at my husband? They are quickly replaced hot salty tears.

 _She had been sitting in the balcony with a book when she saw them. All her past few years" doubts were confirmed. Sal was smiling at her, his slow deep smile that sent tremors throughout her whole body. Sara was blushing, her lovely face blooming with a dimpled smile. The girl was beautiful like she could never hope to be. Apparently Sal thought so too. She had choked back sobs as they kissed, as they embraced passionately. But when he had whispered what_ she _had never heard from him in her ear, something had snapped. Her anger, her jealousy, her love- all were channeled into a furious desire for revenge._

 _She had summoned her bow and arrow with no further thought and took aim carefully._

Sal stands over her, unmoving. He kneels down by her side. He draws her head into his lap. She sees his face and is taken aback. There is so much pain in his tear-streaked face, so much that it hurts her to look at him. He looks at _her_ with all the love she had hoped for.

Sara dies.

Dies?

No she was killed. Oh god, she had killed her. The realization hits her with full force.

She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her She killed her.

A sob escapes from her throat. He hears her and turns around.

She looks at him, quivering with the umpteen emotions that course through her.

Betrayal, she screams silently. I loved you.

He bows his head. He looks back up.

You killed her, he screams back though. His eyes are heavy, dark, loaded with pain and accusation.

She turns furious, defensive.

You are min e Salazar. You are mine, and she stole you from me. I just wanted you- she knows she is being pathetic and doesn't care- I just wanted you to love me back. Like I love you.

Tears run down her face.

He turns his back on her and kneels down by Sara.

Helga arrives. Sal runs.

She shuts her eyes tightly and leans back against the wall. Violent sobs threaten to rip her apart. She sits there for a time. Minutes? Hours? An eternity?

Guilt and humiliation torture her. She sees Sara's face around corners, swirling out of mist and fog. It smolders and taunts by turns.

You have my blood on your hands, Rowena Ravenclaw. You killed me.

You pathetic dried up old stick. No one wants you, no one cares about you. Salazar is mine. He's mine. He wanted me. He loved me. Never you.

When she remembers how he looked at Sara, with so much tenderness and passion, like he never looked at her, she burns in agony. When she remembers how he said "I love you." To her, she explodes into a million tiny bits. When she remembers that Sal left her, her heart slowly, painfully shatters.

She seeks refuge in the library, hides from her ghosts behind the ancient tomes, and tries to lose her in their musty pages. Its ancient wisdom shields her. She drowns herself in her work, research and teaching.

And she waits. She waits all her life, for his footsteps coming back to her.


	3. Helga Hufflepuff

She stops suddenly in the midst of her walk. The all too familiar smell of blood hits her nostrils. She pushes past tall hedges and Sara's rosebushes to the source. The sight that greets is… shocking. Salazar kneels by the bloody corpse that is Sara. Her head reels as long ago memories come up and threaten to engulf her.

"Salazar!" she gasps.

He raises his head and looks up at her, gaunt, haggard. The quiet confidence and the majesty are gone. He is pleading and broken, and ashamed? Afraid?

She looks at Sara's beautiful serene corpse, the bloodstains on Salazar's tunic, Rowena in the balcony, bow and quiver in hand. The arrow with an eagle feather sticking out of Sara's chest. The pieces click together easily in her mind. She is shocked, but not as much as she should be. The seer in her, perhaps her woman's intuition, something had hinted at this. She had seen them looking at each other. Sara at Slytherin with awe. Slytherin at Sara with love, Rowena with guilt. Rowena at both at both with hurt and rage.

Then the healer in her kicks in. With the calm stoniness typical of her, she too kneels by Sara's side and checks her heartbeat and pulse. Dead. Sara of Gryffindor was dead. She meets Slytherin's troubled eyes across her body.

"Well?" She prompts him. Do something, say something. Clear up this mess that you made, this dreadful tangle of heartbreak and lust and murder. The girl you caused to die, the woman you drove to commit murder. He gets up. Frantic and hunted, he looks around and sprints off into the forest. "Salazar!" she yells. "Stop."

She sighs, then squares her shoulders and takes charge. She had always been the one to clean up after others, take on their burdens. She takes Sara's body inside the castle, and owls Godric to tell him that his wife is dead and his friend has left, leaving out Rowena's part in the events completely.

He comes immediately, and storms and rages. He refuses to believe her cock- and- bull story, which admittedly even a small child could see through. But he can't be bothered to delve deeper into it. Perhaps it is kinder to let him think he believes her version of the events. Perhaps he knows what happened, and what she did too. Salazar's betrayal has wounded him more than Sara's death. He curses the pair and then breaks down and weeps. She comforts him as however she can.

She calms Rowena, holds her best friend's whimpering haunted form in her arms, and sits by her through the nightmares and mad ramblings.

She hides the tremors in her heart, her tears at his abandonment of them, grief at the broken quartet that wouldn't ever be the same again and rifts even the best healer couldn't heal. She hides her guilt for blaming one friend of a terrible deed to save another, guilt for lying to the man she loves. She hides her desperation and anguish before Godric's grief that festers into violent hatred, at Rowena's myriad insane outbursts. She arranges her face into a stoic mask for her friends, her students, and the whole damn universe. Staid, dependable, unshakable Helga.

And when Sara is interred, looking like a beautiful, sleeping angel in a cloud of filmy lace and white roses, she too buries her secret in the deep recesses of her mind.


	4. Godric Gryffindor

The landlord hands him Helga's owl when he gets back to the inn. He opens and reads it. He cannot believe what it says. Sara is dead? But he left her under Sal's protection… Sal has left? He storms off to Hogwarts and demands answers. His wife's dead body and a disheveled, confused Helga greet him. Rowena is said to be so distraught that she is confined to her tower. Helga produces a rambling, hastily cooked up story that makes no sense and that she doesn't really expect him to believe. And anyway, he doesn't really care about _how_ his wife died and _why_ his friend left. What happened is that his best friend has abandoned him, and Sara whom he left in his care is dead.

Reasons occur to him aplenty- Godric is much more perceptive than people give him credit for. He even thinks he knows the reason for Rowena's strange behavior, but that is too horrible for him to consider. Sara's death doesn't move him as much as it should; love had no place in their political marriage. But Salazar! That is another matter entirely.

He and Salazar weren't just friends. Their relationship went back to the time when they were infants, when Lord and Lady Slytherin took in the orphaned Godric. They were brothers in all but blood. They complemented each other so well. Godric couldn't have shone in the battlefield without knowing that Sal had his back. He couldn't have gone on his adventures and quests without the reassurance that Sal was looking after things at home. He had trusted Sal with his life. And the bastard had betrayed and abandoned him.

Godric can't understand- why? Why did Sal leave them, the school, Rowena and the children? Was it for Sara? Was she really worth our friendship, wouldn't I have given her up in a moment for you? He rages and curses, and then breaks down and weeps. Helga takes charge, and comforts him. Dear old dependable Helga. Although something seems wrong with her nowadays. Sara is buried, and he determinedly casts Sal out of his mind. Rowena gradually recovers, but she isn't the same as she used to be. But then, he asks himself, can any of us pass through these events and come out unchanged? Can anything be how it used to be?


End file.
